From Myth to Man
by Luv'n Cullen
Summary: Righting an old wrong turns devastating.  When events at an archeological excavation go terribly wrong, Bella finds herself running for her life.  Who will survive the ensuing bloodshed? E/B OOC AU Rated M for violence, lemons


Righting an old wrong turns devastating. When events at an archeological excavation go terribly wrong, Bella finds herself running for her life. Who will survive the ensuing bloodshed? E/B OOC AU Rated M for violence, lemons.

A/N: Wanted to just say thank you for taking the time to check out my little horror fic. I'm so lucky to be thanking so many people for assisting me. As always, thanks to my beta extraordinaire, SparklingMaye, who has that eagle eye. I'm also thrilled to be thanking Kisbydog and Marlena516 from Project Team Beta who had my head spinning. You guys make me a happy happy girl.

Of course, SM is the reason we're all here.

Ok, here goes…

From Myth to Man

Prologue

_PAIN!_ His whole existence suddenly exploded into excruciating and bewildering torment. Misery consumed him. If able, he would've likened the experience to being thrust into a fiery hell. He wished for death, to just cease to exist, to find an end to this suffering.

An unbearable thirst besieged him. It created a burn that exacerbated the torture, driving him wild with need.

He could smell the rich scent of blood. The sweet smell was making him crazed. _Where? _He wanted to turn his head to seek out the source but couldn't. The desire to hunt, to feed, was powerful, but he was helpless to pursue.

His world was dark, filled with only sensation and sound. Unable to see or move, he existed only to feel the hot fire that consumed his body and scorched his throat. His mind did not comprehend words, nor was he able to formulate a coherent thought. He was functioning at the level of the most basic life form, no greater consideration given other than to feed and to put an end to agonizing torment.

He could hear shuffling and scraping, as well as the change of tones and octaves, but was without understanding. However, he could detect that some sounds were closer, right by his side.

His first attempts at movement were futile. He wanted to run and escape his tormentors so he could hunt, but he was trapped in a motionless body. Gradually, his fingers twitched, but with each new modicum of control came even greater agony.

_Prey._ His body vibrated with anticipation when he became suddenly aware that prey was close. Although blind, he could distinguish the change of light that, along with the scent, told him his quarry was making a pass over him. His survival instinct spurred him to fight the paralysis enough to bring his mouth to flesh. Razor- sharp teeth penetrated the soft tissue, releasing the needed drink.

Relief washed over him in cooling waves. Although the fire in his extremities still flamed, the sweet nectar coating his throat extinguished a small portion of his suffering.

His prey struggled to free itself, triggering his predator instincts. With nourishment came rapidly increasing control, which allowed him to raise an arm and secure a better hold on his meal. The venom was incapacitating, which further aided him with draining his kill.

The sounds were changing; the pitch went from rapid and loud to intermittent and low.

Finishing his repast, he pushed the carcass away and sat up. The surrounding sounds increased sharply upon his movement. Changes in light had given way to shapes and colors, though they held no meaning.

Although now sighted, he still relied heavily on scent, detecting other sources of sustenance.

Comprehension slowly dawned, assisting him with recognizing some of the shapes as living creatures. One held out an object that made a deafening sound, which preceded a strike on his forehead, causing his head to snap back.

Irritated by the noise and the attack on his person, he pounced, sinking his teeth deep into the neck of his next victim. As he drank deeply from the wound, he became aware of a tapping on his shoulder. At first mistaking it as another predator, he stood and turned to face his adversary.

As he assessed his possible foe, he was struck with the overpowering scent of pheromones from the female form before him. His thirst was quenched, which allowed a ravenous lust to enslaved his being, and the dominating urge to conquer and fuck took hold. The female's eyes were wide with fear as he stalked slowly towards her, gaining on her attempts to back away. Grasping her arms, he lowered his head and ran his nose up along her collarbone and neck, savoring her smell. Uninhibited by the gore that covered his mouth and chin, he ran his tongue across her lips, dipping in to taste her, effecting her with his breath and venom.

The breath and venom from his marauder's kiss intoxicated her, causing her terror and resistance to be replaced by a sense of acceptance and arousal. Her eyes became heavy and her head tilted back as he began to lick her neck and rub himself against her. Relishing in the sensation of his touch, she was oblivious to the blood and dirt that covered his face and body, ready to submit to him completely.

Higher level processes were improving, allowing him to appreciate the finer details of his newfound mate: the beauty of her face, the smooth softness of her skin, the warm brown of her eyes.

Her brown eyes.

Something was wrong. He furrowed his brow as a sense of foreboding tried to claw its way to the surface. He was making a mistake, but couldn't fathom what it was.

He assessed his current state to determine what was amiss. Without his direct notice, his pain had all but left; he was free from the burning in his throat. Soon he would have physical release. All his needs were being met, but still, something was off.

Stopping his ministrations, he continued to stare down at the beautiful woman before him. _Woman._ _Beautiful._ Words were forming in his mind. _Blood, feed, fuck…kill._

_Kill._

Progressing steadily as his senses, his mental abilities gradually increased until he was slammed with an awareness of what had just occurred, what was still occurring.

His lips began to move, trying to form words. What was he trying to say? He couldn't be certain. Maybe he just wanted to scream in horror at the crime he only then realized he'd committed.

With the effects of his venom wearing off, fear crept back into the eyes of the woman. Still caught within his grasp, she stared into his face as his red eyes bore into her. She was horrorstruck by the scene as she tried to determine his next move. Would he kill her now?

His continued stillness encouraged her to try once again to pull herself from his restraint. Feeling the tug, he released her and stared dumbly as she slowly backed away.

Smelling the increased rush of adrenaline, he knew exactly when she made the decision to turn and run. Not completely in control of his faculties, he had to fight his instincts to chase her down as he watched her flee.

XxX

A/N: I hope I've peaked your interest. Leave me a review and let me know if you figured out what was happening in this scene. We'll be getting a different perspective down the road.


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